


The Sphere of Asmodia

by whichstiel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Library, Charlie Ships It, Freaky Friday - Freeform, Librarian Dean, M/M, Pink Panties, Writer Castiel, author!Cas, aw yeah, body swapping, body switching, dean likes gourmet coffee, deancastropefest5k, librarian!Dean, precocious teenagers, prelude to a date, what are you a ninja?, where are my galaxy quest fans at?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-07
Updated: 2017-04-07
Packaged: 2018-10-12 20:21:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10498767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whichstiel/pseuds/whichstiel
Summary: Librarian Dean Winchester's day just got weird. Really weird. Can Dean handle a chance meeting with his favorite authorandexperimental mind-reading technology gone wonky - all without any caffeine?





	

“A hot guy stole my coffee today,” Dean said casually, as though it weren’t the foremost thing on his mind. He stopped laying out chairs in the library’s activity room to gauge his friend’s reaction. Charlie shot up like a prairie dog from where she crouched behind one of the ancient speakers, eyes alight with delight.

“One. I need to know every detail. And B. That was random.”

Dean started on the next row of chairs. “Not much to tell. Ordered my drink. Didn’t get to pick it up. The dude grabbed it and said it was his. Gabe said he’d comp me a drink but I had to run so I could open the library this morning. Now my head’s killing me because somebody,” he jabbed a finger at her, “kept me up half the night.”

“Aw! Poor Dean.” Charlie grinned impishly. ”You don’t have to be part of the raid if you can’t take the pressure.”

“Funny. I can handle anything you throw at me - battalion of trolls included.” Dean groaned. ”It’s just that right now a battalion of trolls is Riverdancing in my head.”

“I’ve got instant at my desk.”

Dean shot her a mock horrified expression. “You trying to kill me?”

Charlie laughed. “Right. I forgot. You’re a caramel macchiato kind of guy.”

“They’re the best and you know it. Man.” He grinned a little at the memory. ”He was a damn thief but died-and-gone-to-Heaven hot. Almost makes the headache worth it.”

“You were too busy staring deeply into his eyes to confront him? That’s adorable. You should make him buy you coffee the next time you see him.”

“Nah. He looked like some kind of business traveler. Suit, wrinkled trench coat. I’ve never seen him before.” Dean shook his head. “Probably never see him again. And I did not stare deeply into his eyes.” He finished the last row of chairs. “Much, anyway.”

Charlie’s answering laugh filled the room. “Tell you what. You’ve got an hour before Novak’s panel, I’ll cover for you so you can sneak out for coffee take two. Go on. Shoo!”

“Charlie,” Dean said, dusting off his hands before laying his palm over his heart. “You are the best.” He flashed her a Vulcan salute, then sped from the activity room. He’d only come in to open the library and help set up for the lecture. After talking with Charlie it seemed completely feasible that he could sneak out for half an hour, get some coffee into his system, and return for the book talk with none the wiser.

The main floor of the library was a maelstrom of activity. Ordinarily unflappable Director Donna Hanscum stood in the center of it, directing staff and volunteers in setting up signs and hauling last-minute supplies.

It was a major coup for a library of their size to score an author of Castiel Novak’s stature. His _Mindmaster_ series was immensely popular but the reclusive author rarely did live readings. Dean didn’t know how Donna had done it but the steel in her smile told him that she wouldn’t let anything mess up this opportunity for the library. He crept behind her, staying on the far end of her orbit.

“Winchester!” she trilled.

Dean froze mid-step and slumped a little. _Damn._ “What’s up?”

“I’ve got tables set up for the items Novak’s agreed to sign in room three. Take the volunteers in and get it all set up.”

Dean smiled and nodded. Internally he kicked over a chair. _It’s gonna be a rough day._ He gestured to a gaggle of volunteers hauling plastic interlibrary shipping bins and led them to the meeting room.

Dean had the volunteers set the bins on the floor before shooing them back to Donna. Each item was tagged with a rubber banded number attendees would use to claim their item after the talk. He emptied the bins methodically onto the empty tables. Most of the objects were books or art but he paused to hold up a pair of pink panties clearly inspired by the second _Mindmaster_ book. He whistled. “Wow. I hope for Novak’s sake these haven't been worn.”

“I hope so too,” a dry voice said behind him.

Dean jumped and whirled, ears burning in embarrassment. “What are you? A ninja?” he asked flippantly, expecting one of the volunteers. Instead, he faced a tousle-haired stranger wearing a dark suit and rumpled trench coat. “You,” he breathed accusingly.

“You?,” the stranger said in a pleased tone.

“What are you doing here?” Dean asked before he could stop himself.

The man looked warily around before returning his gaze to Dean. “Sorry, what? I’m here to sign things.” He cocked his head - _adorably, damn it_ \- and looked down at the underwear in Dean’s hands. He smiled. “Those yours?”

“What?” Dean tossed them onto the table and held out both hands. “Um, no. Not mine. I’m just setting up. And, excuse me? You said you’re here to…”

The man held out his hand to Dean. “Castiel Novak. And you are?”

He looked different from his interview photos: broader shoulders, darker hair. _And those eyes!_ “Dean. Dean Winchester. Librarian here.” When did he lose the power to speak in complete sentences?

“Nice to meet you.” Castiel gripped his hand tightly as he looked around the room. “I hear I have some things to sign?”

Dean stood back as Castiel examined the tables, then picked up a marker and began to scrawl his signature. “You stole my coffee this morning,” Dean said before his brain caught up to his lips.

“Sorry?” Castiel set down the marker and looked back in confusion.

Dean tried to laugh but nerves made it sound aggressive. “You, uh, took my drink. At Lotus Coffee. Probably don’t remember.” There went his command of English again.

“I remember you. And that was my drink. It was a caramel macchiato so I knew it was mine.”

“That’s what I ordered, man.”

Castiel looked him up and down, taking in his casual flannel and worn blue jeans. He arched an eyebrow. “That’s your signature drink. Right.”

The once-over was too much, and aggravated Dean’s caffeine deprived nerves. “Yeah, dude. And you stole it.”

Castiel sighed. “Look, I got there, ordered a coffee, and left to meet my agent. I’m sorry for whatever you think happened.”

“What I _think_ happened? Try what I know happened.” Dean ground his teeth and winced internally. He had to get out of here now before he made more of an ass of himself. “Whatever, man. Sorry. It was nice to meet you,” he said stiffly. As he turned to leave his hip brushed into the table with the underwear. A piece of fan art, a heavy plastic replica of the Sphere of Asmodia, spun from its resting place between a t-shirt and a stuffed unicorn and thunked onto the floor. It rolled across the small room and landed at Castiel’s feet.

Castiel shot Dean an annoyed look, rolled his eyes, then stooped to pick it up. Dean, meanwhile, launched himself toward the floor, hands scrambling to catch the object. They grabbed the sculpture at the same time, fingers entangling clumsily.

The room spun, then went dark.

Dean woke blearily to the sound of quiet swearing. He groaned and pressed a palm to his forehead. God, what was going on with him today? His mild headache had bloomed into a full on pounding, flashing light migraine. And now he lay on the floor. “Fuck,” he contributed to the nearby stream of curses. “Sorry. Don’t know what hit me.” He opened his eyes and tried for a smile. “Guess I should head home.” His smile dropped like an anvil as he turned to the person next to him. His own green eyes blinked back.

Dean pushed himself upright with a grunt and tried not to panic as his reflection stayed on the floor. His fingers fumbled for the skin on his wrist where he pinched himself. Hard. He stared at _himself_ , still lying down and repeating as though in shock, “Shit shit shit shit.”

Dean laughed a little. “Well this is the weirdest fucking dream I’ve had in awhile.” He looked down at his trenchcoat clad arms.

“I don’t think this is a dream,” Other-Dean said dully. “Maybe a nightmare.”

Dean screwed up his face, hands up in front of him. _Black suit? Check. Trench coat? Check? Mental breakdown? Check._ He closed his eyes and the pulsing pain in his head began to subside. When he opened his eyes only to see himself still staring back at him in shock, Dean laughed weakly. “Nope. I’m in my bed. This is just a super meta dream I’m having about my favorite author. I’m gonna wake up any second.”

“I tried that already! I’m trained to lucid dream but there isn’t a fucking goat in sight.” Other-Dean pointed at the sphere lying between them. “You don’t think..:”

“Oh no. Whatever you’re thinking the answer is no. That,” Dean pointed at the sculpture, “is fan art and this,” he pointed at himself in Castiel Novak’s body, “is an insane dream that I am currently having at home in bed.”

“How would anybody even make a Sphere of Asmodia?” Not-Dean muttered. “I made it up. Who’s actually ever heard of _real_ mind-meld technology? It doesn’t exist. This-” He gestured between them, “doesn’t make sense.”

Dean laughed. “And you’re Castiel Novak, dressed as me. Because why not?”

Not-Dean narrowed his eyes at Dean. “Apparently I am,” he said at last. “I’m Castiel, anyway.” He looked down and plucked at the blue plaid shirt Dean had picked out that morning. “And I do appear to be ‘dressed’ as you.” His hallucination did air quotes, too. _Great._

Castiel suddenly leaned over and gripped Dean’s face in his hands, forcing him to look into his eyes. _My eyes. Weird._ Dean’s breath stuttered in his lungs.

“This happened. We’re not dreaming. Get over it and help me fix it.” Castiel said slowly before letting go and looking at the sphere lying on the floor between them. “I think touching it swapped our minds between our bodies. Touching it again should fix it.”

“Awesome. Just like the books,” Dean said weakly.

Castiel raised a brow at Dean. ”Even if this is a dream, it won’t hurt to try it, right?” Reluctantly, Dean nodded. ”Shall we?”

Dean shuddered. “I don't want to touch that thing again.” He reached out anyway and mirrored Castiel’s movements, laying one hand on the smooth plastic.

Nothing happened.

Dean patted it, then laid his hand over Castiel’s and pressed it into the sphere. “Shit, man.”

Castiel looked pale, freckles standing out along his cheeks. “Shit,” he agreed. He looked up at Dean. “You need to find out who made this. There’s—“ he swallowed heavily. “There’s got to be a way to reverse this.”

“I can’t go out there looking like you,” Dean hissed. “I’ll just saunter out and tell everyone, ‘hey, I’m reclusive author Castiel Novak. And who made this fan art? Come on back and have a private meeting with me and this random librarian.' That’s not weird at all, dude.”

Castiel looked down and grimaced. “When you put it that way…”

“You’ll have to go.” Dean grabbed the rubber banded number which lay on the floor next to the sphere. “Just say the label fell off and you need to find out who it belongs to so you can match it with the right thing.”

Castiel reluctantly took the number. “Okay,” he said, looking a little green. “And while I’m doing that you need to talk to Donna and get this talk canceled.”

“Wait. What? You can’t cancel.”

“Are you kidding me?” Castiel asked flatly. “Even if we swap back right away I need…I don’t even know. An appointment with my therapist, maybe? I’m in no mood to talk to a roomful of strangers.” His breathing turned harsh and fast. “Just thinking about it...” He folded in on himself, resting his forehead on his knees and clutching the rubber band with white knuckled fingers.

Dean hesitated for a moment, taken aback at Castiel’s sudden shift towards vulnerability. Finally, he laid a careful hand on Castiel’s arm. “I get it. This sucks,” he said gently. “And I’m gonna do everything I can to set this right. But please. Please don’t cancel. You have no idea how much the library needs this.”

“Oh, I know,” Castiel mumbled between his knees. “This is what happens when I try to do something nice for an old friend.”

Dean drew back in surprise. “Who’re you doing this for?”

“Donna. She—“ Castiel sighed and looked up at the ceiling, shifting in embarrassment. “When I was younger she saved me from …a bad situation. When I moved back I offered to do a reading to give your library a boost in the budget fight.” He shook his head and a resolute look settled across his features. “So…I’ll reschedule. No signings next time, though. This is why I don’t do these kinds of things.”

Dean laughed. “Seriously? _This_ is why?” He gestured incredulously between them before maneuvering into Castiel’s line of vision. He stared him down and hoped he looked friendly, rather than intimidating. “Please. There’s gotta be a way to convince you to stay. Wait!” He gripped Castiel’s shoulder. “I’ll do it.”

Castiel glanced at the hand on his shoulder, then back at Dean, brows raised. “Do what?”

“I’ll do the talk for you. I’ve read all your books. Let me do this, man. You can just chill out in the back and text me the answers.” He dug his phone out of his pocket triumphantly. “And then whoever did this will set it right. You can go home. The library gets good PR. Everybody wins.” He winced internally at the manipulative thing he was about to say. _Desperate times._ “Do this for Donna.”

Castiel groaned. “This is insane.” He took the phone from Dean and slowly punched his number into a blank contact before typing 'Cas' in the name field and saving it.

“Believe me, I know. I’ll wait here, alright? You go find that fan.” He shifted to draw the other man into an awkward one armed embrace. “It’s gonna be okay. We’ll get through this.”

Castiel rolled his eyes before nodding and standing up. “Okay,” he breathed, face still pinched but less green. “I’m going.”

Dean stood as Castiel left the room. His knees shook with adrenaline. Carefully, he lifted the sphere up and placed it back on the table. It felt dangerous, somehow, to hold it in his arms too long. But he wanted it in his line of sight at all times. He shook his head. _Who invents a body swapping machine and then brings it to a library for an autograph?_ He settled against the table to wait.

Several minutes later Charlie poked her head in. She smiled at him shyly. “Mister Novak?”

Dean looked around the room for a moment. _Oh, yeah. That’s me._ “Can I help you?”

Charlie’s face fell into confusion for a moment. “Yes?” She shoved her hands in her pockets - a nervous gesture. Dean made a mental note to tease her about it later. “Um. It’s about time to start.”

Dean jolted. “Already?” He fumbled for his phone and stared at the display. Nearly twenty minutes later and Castiel still hadn’t returned. He hoped nothing had gone wrong with the line of fans up front. Maybe Castiel was waiting for him at the program already? Dean typed a quick message to Castiel.

> **Dean:** Where are you?

Dean grabbed the sphere, taking care to hold it so that only the fabric of his sleeves touched the plastic shell, then followed Charlie out of the room. “Hey,” he asked as they walked down a line of book stacks. “Have you seen Dean Winchester?”

Charlie lifted her brows at him. She shrugged. “He had to pinch hit for story hour when Lisa started puking. Why do you ask?” she said with a mischievous smile.

Dean froze mid-step. “He’s…doing story hour?”

“Yeah. One of our other librarians came down with food poisoning. He’ll miss your talk, of course. But,” she looked at him meaningfully, “he’s free afterwards. I can tell him to stick around.”

“Can’t anyone else do it? What about Megan? How about you?”

“Uh, Megan is busy at the desk and I’m busy with...you.” Charlie pinned him with an odd look. “What’s going on? How do you know--?”

Dean shook his head, shrugging as casually as he could muster and then continued walking. Today’s story hour was timed simultaneous to the book talk. Castiel must already be there. And Dean had a book talk to give. _Alone._

Charlie paused outside the activity room doors and they waited while Donna introduced Castiel. Moments later Charlie pushed open the doors and led him up the aisle and onto the stage as the room erupted in applause. Dean felt bloodless and terrified as he shook Donna’s hand and settled into one of the chairs arranged on the stage. _Shit. There are a lot of people here._ He suddenly understood why Castiel avoided the public eye.

As Donna introduced him, Dean fumbled the sphere under his chair then scanned the back rows on the idle hope that Castiel would be there after all. He still gripped his phone tightly, uselessly in his hand.

“Mister Novak?” Donna said and Dean jumped and looked at her.

“Sorry, I didn’t catch that.”

Donna’s usually unflappable expression held a hint of panic and she said in gentler tones than a normal interview would require, “What inspires you to write?”

Dean stumbled his way through Donna's interview, pulling from fuzzily recalled articles and making up facts about Castiel with wild abandon. As the hour wore on, Dean began to relax. _This is kind of fun. Weird, but fun._ Before he knew it, Donna wrapped up her interview and they moved on to audience questions.

To Dean’s relief most of the questions were easy, asking about details from books Dean had read and re-read (and even authored a few wiki articles about). When asked what projects would follow the last Claire Milton series, he felt comfortable enough to simply wink. “I can’t talk about that. Spoilers. But I think you’re gonna love it.”

One of the last questioners was a girl Dean recognized from several of the teen maker fairs he’d hosted the last couple of years. He smiled encouragingly as she spoke.

“Hi. My name’s Hannah. I want to know if…” she blushed and hid her face behind the microphone. “Are Claire and Alex officially a thing?”

“You mean in a romantic relationship?”

Hannah jerked her head up and nodded mutely, eyes wide at his restatement of her question.

Dean hesitated for a moment. _There was nothing overt in canon…_ He slowly grinned. “Well, like I said. I don’t talk about future books. So, what do you think?”

“I think they are,” she said in a rush.

“Then they are.”

Amid the uproar in the room he settled back in his chair. Castiel would probably skewer him alive for this. But Dean always thought Alex had a thing for Claire.

Hannah smiled at him in gratitude. “That’s— Thank you, Mister Novak.” She preened her hair like a nervous bird. “Um. And that’s mine.”

She pointed at the sphere Dean had placed beneath his chair. Dean bent over to pick it up. “This? This is yours? Did you make this?”

Hannah nodded happily. “I did,” she practically sang.

“Great. Okay.” He jabbed a finger at the sphere. “This is amazing. Really. I’d love to talk to you about it. Why don’t you find this young lady-“ Dean pointed at Charlie who jumped in surprise, “after the talk and she’ll bring you back to find me.”

After the last questions were answered Donna stepped in to wrap up the talk. Dean walked out of the side door like a golden god, waving to the cheering audience. He grabbed Charlie’s elbow on his way out and whispered, “Bring Hannah back to Dean Winchester’s desk.” At her startled nod, he turned, gave one last dramatic wave to the audience, and headed into the relatively quiet hallway.

Dean walked straight towards the children’s area. Castiel had left already but the librarian at the desk gave him an odd smile. “He said he’d be in room three.” she offered, clearly unsettled by his apparent pursuit of her coworker. "But that's been locked up. I think he's at his desk?"

Dean sagged in relief when he found Castiel in the staff office. Castiel slumped in Dean’s chair; he was pale and his fingers laced tightly on the desk. He sat up when he saw Dean. “Thank god,” he gasped. “You have no idea what I just had to do.”

Dean grimaced. “Uh. I heard. I'm so sorry man.” He crossed the room, then knelt beside Castiel and carefully set the sphere on the floor before patting him awkwardly on the back. “You okay?”

Castiel shook his head. “I threw up,” he whispered. “And then I read a bunch of books to kids.”

Dean rubbed slow circles between his shoulder blades. “I’m sure you did great. Hey! On the bright side your talk went fine and we found who made this fun little brain scrambler.” Dean pointed to the sphere. “Charlie will bring her back here, she’ll reverse it, you can go home and pretend this never happened.”

Castiel brightened at that and his knuckles regained a bit of color. “Or write a book about it.”

Dean laughed. “That’s the spirit.”

Charlie walked in with Hannah trailing after her warily. “Hi, Hannah!” Dean deliberately made his tone light and friendly. No good could come from spooking the inventor.

“Did you make this?” Castiel barked and picked up the sphere, holding it up above the desk.

Hannah halted at his rough tone and Dean held up his hands. “Okay. It’s fine, Hannah. Calm down, Cas.”

“Y- Yes, I made it.”

“Good, okay. So you can reverse it?” Dean asked, plucking the sphere from Castiel’s shaking hands and carrying it over to Hannah. Charlie watched him walk past, a look of utter confusion on her face.

Hannah gawped. “Reverse what?”

Dean laughed as though she made a joke. “It's fine. Charlie’s cool, aren’t you Charlie?” At Charlie’s dumbfounded nod he continued. “Reverse this whole body swap thing we got going on here.”

“Body swap?” Hannah gulped.

“Body swap?” Charlie laughed.

Dean sighed. “Look, Galaxy Quest. This isn’t the time to lie about it. He and I switched bodies and we need you to tell us how to switch back.”

Instead of guilty, Hannah looked surprised. “You mean your consciousness is in…” Dean nodded. “And his is…” Castiel nodded. “But that’s not what it’s supposed to do,” she finished on a wail. “It’s supposed to read minds. Not switch minds.” She grabbed the sphere from Dean and rolled it over in her hands, squinting hard at it. “What happened?”

Dean shifted uncomfortably. “Uh. It fell off a table.”

Hannah sat on the floor and cradled the sphere in her lap. She stuck out her tongue and pulled a multitool from her pocket, unfolding a screwdriver and unscrewing a nearly seamless panel in the surface. The panel lifted to display a blinking array of LED lights and a nest of wires folded into it. She started to talk rapidly, nervously. “I just wanted to get some insight into your mind, Mister Novak, sir. That was before I heard we wouldn’t get to have face to face signings but I thought… Well, I’ll still get to have him sign it. That’ll be cool.”

“I’ll write you a recommendation for MIT after this,” Castiel said drily. “Just fix this, please.”

Silence fell over the room as Hannah worked. Charlie cleared her throat. “So this is all just some elaborate joke, right? Hidden cameras? Ha ha? Joke’s on me?”

Dean met her eye and slowly shook his head. “Ask me anything, Charlie.”

She thought for a moment and then leaned over and whispered something in his ear. Dean felt himself turn bright red. “It was only one time, Charlie! And yes. I liked it,” he mumbled and Charlie gave a shout of triumph.

“Oh my god, it _is_ you! I can’t believe you switched bodies with hot coffee shop guy! And then he’s your favorite author. Oh my god. OH MY GOD.”

“Charlie,” Dean hissed, blushing, as Castiel lifted his brows in question.

Hannah sighed from the floor. “Okay,” she said. “Connectors were loose. I'm gonna have to remember… Well, I can figure it out later. I think it should work now.”

“You think?” Dean and Castiel said in unison. They looked at each other.

Finally, Castiel shrugged and stood up. “Fine. Okay. Let’s get this over with.”

They both placed their hands on the sphere, their fingers brushing.

Dean woke on the floor with a mild taste of vomit in his mouth. “Oh god,” he moaned. “You didn’t even grab a mint? Thank god I have a toothbrush in my desk.” He pushed himself up, rubbing his throbbing temples.

Castiel stirred on the floor. “Worst. Day. Ever,” he said, sitting up and shaking his head slowly.

Dean laughed, suddenly buoyantly happy to be back in his own body. “Do me a favor, Hannah. No more show and tell at the library, huh? Unless it’s like…a nice normal robot or something.” Dean caught a tremble in her lips as she ducked her head. He sighed and rose to his knees so he could reach over and pat her on the back. “You did good, kid. Just leave the big stuff at home, alright? Or the college of your choice. I mean, that was…something else.”

“You think so?”

“I know so, kid. Hey!” Dean snapped his fingers then stood up and opened his desk drawer, pulling out a marker. “How about an autograph?”

She frowned at him and then brightened as Dean dangled the marker in front of Castiel.

Castiel rolled his eyes, then took the marker. He gingerly scrawled a signature across the sphere, careful to not touch it.

“Alright,” Dean said, grabbing the marker back and gesturing to the sphere. He was also not going to risk touching the thing again. “Now get outta here, kid. And I want you here at our next maker fair, alright? You can be my co-teacher.”

Hannah grinned at him, clutched the sphere to her chest, and nodded. “Okay, Mister Winchester. Thanks.” Hannah pushed her way through the office door.

Dean stood, looking around at Charlie, standing with her mouth agape and Castiel, who slumped in relief at the sphere’s removal. Dean held out his hand to Castiel and the other man took it and heaved himself up to stand. “Well, it’s been weird, man.”

“Yes. It has,” Castiel’s tone was as dry as the desert.

“Thanks for what you did today. Pinch hitting for story hour. Helping me with my job. You didn’t have to.”

“Well, those kids weren’t so bad. Throwing up beforehand helped, I think.”

Dean laughed. “And thanks for agreeing to come here in the first place. Then letting the talk go on even after...”

“Swapping bodies?”

“It sounds so stupid to say out loud. But yeah.” He looked down at their still joined hands. “Um. Have a nice…day?”

“You too, Dean.” Castiel slowly pulled away his hand and then looked around. “My agent is probably looking for me. I should…”

“Yeah. Of course.” Dean stepped back and awkwardly waved. “See ya.” He watched Castiel leave, trench coat flapping as he wrenched open and walked through the door. Then Dean shook his head and turned to Charlie. “What a morning. Fuck, I’m tired.”

Charlie just shook her head. “My god, Dean. Tell. Me. Everything.”

They were still rehashing the morning thirty minutes later when Dean’s phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out as it buzzed two more times. Slowly, a grin lit up his face.

> **Cas:** Hi Dean. It’s Cas. Castiel Novak.  
>  **Cas:** Found my agent. Finished signing stuff.  
>  **Cas:** I owe you a coffee, I think?

Dean flashed the phone to Charlie who beamed at him. Her smile erupted in a laugh as another text came through and Dean flipped around his phone to read it.

> **Cas:** You’re my hot coffee shop guy, too. ;)

“Well done, Winchester,” Charlie murmured, then poked him hard in the ribs. “Write him back, nerd!”

> **Dean:** I think you do owe me a coffee. Same place?  
>  **Cas:** Heading there now. See you there?  
>  **Dean:** Sounds good. You know what I like. :) 

****He stood up and shoved his phone back in his pocket. “I’m off!” He said jubilantly.

“Get it, Winchester,” Charlie laughed. “And you and I are doing dinner tonight because I need every last stinking detail. Got it?”

Dean threw her a mock salute and halted at the door. “Shit.” He rushed back to his desk. “Gotta do one thing before I…” He pulled out a toothbrush and tube of toothpaste triumphantly from the mess in his top drawer.

“Aw, there’s my little Boy Scout,” Charlie crooned as Dean threw her a wink and ran out the door.

After a quick stop in the staff restroom Dean pushed his way through the library’s front doors, unable to keep an idiot grin off of his face. Of all the heart pounding things to happen today a date with _Hot Coffee Shop Guy_ a.k.a. _Castiel Novak_ a.k.a. _Terrified Story Hour Librarian_ surprised him the most. As he walked down the street Dean began to whistle. It was going to be a damn beautiful day.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I'm on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/whichstiel) and [Tumblr](http://whichstiel.tumblr.com/) @ whichstiel. You may also like the Supernatural recap and gif blog I co-write/curate, [Shirtless Sammy](https://shirtlesssammy.tumblr.com/).
> 
> A big thanks to [ThePamelaOracle](http://archiveofourown.org/users/ThePamelaOracle) for beta reading! :D
> 
> Thanks to the mods and all the cool writers who have put up with my puns and lame jokes for the last few months. This has been fun!


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